Jack gets caught up in a seemingly normal fight with Pitch... which turns into a battle for his life, and the light of the entire world. Pitch's relentless torture will test the boy's sanity, along with the other Guardian's. Pitch will not give up until he has what he wants... or at least until Jack breaks completely and utterly... T for language and violence/gore

~Please don't forget that I own nothing, and to please review with questions or comments! And please read the notes following this chapter!~

So, guys, I've found a new obsession. (big surprise, I know) but trust me, I'm just getting back into this; High School is killing me! An NO! I have NOT abandoned my other stories. Danny Phantom is just an older fandom of mine, and it requires new ideas and more time. As this story was basically pulled out of my butt, and was written in an hour. Please enjoy! (Slight language and gore, but don't worry. If you know me at all, you know in chapters to come, that will change to much more gore and language (; )

Something wasn't right. Within all his years of being of supernatural nature, he had felt many things go wrong… but nothing has caused his chilled heart as much anxiety and fear as this moment in time did. Something tugged at his stomach. He couldn't tell if something was actually hurting, or he was just so scared that his stomach felt as if something had been shoved in it and twisted multiple times.

He lurched forward, his bare toes curling into the snow, as he heaved. Nausea was overcoming him. What the hell is wrong?

He felt as if he was going to pass out; dizziness and fatigue were overwhelming him at this point. Twisting one hand in his hair, the other on his churning stomach, he looked up from the red tinged snow. His vision gave him no comfort; he could not see a thing through the blurry haze that had somehow become his sight. He could just make out a dark, sinister looking figure when he stiffened.

Red snow? I'm either really out of it or-

He lurched again, but this time involuntarily. Something had definitely struck him this time. He spun and landed on his behind, weak elbows catching in the thick snow to try and break his fall. Adrenaline did its job, and Jack was finally able to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie and retaliate in a matter of seconds. He was on his feet again, staff in hand, ready to fight whatever beast was waiting for him. When he saw the man clothed in dark before him, his eyes widened and time seemed to cease. Memories of the hour beforehand replayed itself in his mind. His breath hitched in his throat- how could any of this be truly happening? Jack was a Guardian… none of this was supposed to happen. North and Bunnymund had promised him no one would get hurt this time. How could this have happened?

It was just the two men. The elder, clothed in black with swirling vortexes of darkness churning beside him, chuckled maniacally, golden eyes glinting with malice. The teenage boy with snow white hair and little experience with this dark magic, stood in a ready stance, wooden staff prepared to impale the elder with ice icicles if needed.

"my boy, you look so serious, so… determined." The dark one said.

They stood like wolves about to attack. Each about twenty feet from the other. Close enough to talk to one another, but far enough not to cause damage. Jack sneered, and shifted his staff so he held it more like a walking stick.

"Old man, do you ever think about wearing brighter colors? I mean, sure black is slimming, but… c'mon man. If you're gonna be "Mr. controller of Nightmares" don't you think you better have a better wardrobe?" Jack grinned, leaning forward on his staff as if it were there as a crutch. The scowl that overtook the elder's face was disgusting. Jack even stopped smiling from his funny quip; he was a professional now. He couldn't afford to piss the enemy off with his sarcastic mouth.

"Listen, Pitch. Can we just talk this out over a nice cup of hot choc-"

"Silence! You idiotic waste of matter! Shut your childish mouth before your antics make me truly angry!" The dark one shouted, his voice echoing throughout the snowy mountaintops all around. His hand shot forward, dark crystallized sand extending in tendrils from his fingertips. The dark matter twisted itself in various different shaped and forms through the snow, entangling itself in Jack Frost's feet. The darkness was strong; Jack was held in place by the strong force, and began to try and maneuver his way out of it.

"It's no use my boy. My nightmares are stronger than the happiest dreams. The less you're tedious fidgeting endures, the less chance you have of ending you're pathetic, life." The elder, now identified as Pitch, said as he stepped forward. His boots crunched in the snow, and within seconds, his face was inches from the boy's.

Jack's eyes widened with fear. He's never been this close to the King of Nightmares before. It make his heart beat quicker, and his mind jump around to subjects he didn't want to think of. Jack was scared. He called himself immortal; they all did. But in all truth, everything that lives, has to, some how, someway, have an end. Every single one of the Guardians, and even Pitch… if injured fatally enough, would reach their end. This thought made even Jack Frost shiver, because he knew undoubtedly that Pitch Black was more than capable of inflicting major pain to his being.

Pitch's slender hand caressed Jack's chin, bringing Jack's eyes to look into his. The elder was significantly taller than the frostling, which made Jack feel even more so inferior.

"what do you want," Jack said through clenched teeth. Pitch's grip wouldn't allow his jaw to unclench fully.

"My boy! Have you not been here for the past year? I shall just say it then- I want your dreams. I want them to become mine to make into frightful nightmares as I please. I want all of the Guardian's dreams, as you all dream the strongest. I want the joy and happiness of this world to be sucked out of every child, and brought into my palms so I may do as I please. So that I may take them and disperse back to the world what they have not experienced. To make the world dark and cold; a comfortable place for someone like me to live," Pitch explained, grinning as he did so. Jack tried to free his head of his grasp, hut the elder has hands of steel. Jack used to enjoy fights with Pitch; they exchanged quirky remarks to one another, fought a decent fight, and most of the time Pitch ran away with his tail between his legs. But something about today… about this setting. It was just… off. Pitch wasn't as sarcastic as usual; in fact, Jack had never seen the man this serious before in his career as a Guardian. And perhaps that's what frightened Jack. Pitch was serious. Dead serious. He had planned out all his motives, and was ready to attack.

It was disgusting. Jack's disapproval showed in his features. He couldn't let the world shrivel up into a ball of dead hopes and broken dreams. He would have no children to play with… no children to believe in him. He didn't want to go back to those dreadful days when no one thought he existed. Those were in his past… he never wanted to relive them.

"Jackie! Why the gloomy features? Don't you know that this will benefit you as well dear boy?" Jack's eyes darted back to Pitch's. "Ah! At last I have your attention. See my boy… I know what you're thinking; no more cheerful faces means no more believers… which means no more Frosty boy," Pitch caressed Jack's cheek, looking deep into his eyes. Jack shivered with disgust. "But this is hardly true boy. Think- all the world in darkness. You're pretty familiar with darkness, right boy?" Tears were brought to Jack's eyes. How dare he bring up those times! "After all, you live with cold, sleep with freezing… you're inner core is practically ice. And what does one think of when they hear of darkness? Correct! Ice…cold. Jackie boy, we will thrive together! We will feed off the darkness and become stronger than ever!"

"That wouldn't make people believe. No one would see us." Jack mumbled.

"Oh, but they will. They will fear us Jack. After all, if they fear us, that means they know we exist, right? We will make the world our own! We will live with the dark-"

Jack's arm that held his staff moved quicker than he had ever moved it before. Driven by anger and despair, he called upon the ice in his core to destroy Pitch. To rid the world of his evil plans. But just as quickly as Jack's hand had shot up, Pitch's free hand stopped it. The world froze. Jack's left wrist was held by Pitch's right, Jack's face still in Pitch's free hand. The elder squeezed his right hand with all his might, looking deep into the boys eyes. Jack refused to let go of his rod. Ice shot out in spurts as Jack's agitation grew, but Pitch held fast. What seemed like hours passed with the two gazes locked on each other, until finally, something snapped. It was not the snap of North telling his reindeer to "mush!" nor the snap of sandy's fingers to make up for his not being able to speak. No. It was Jack's own wrist, and with the vast amount of ground and snow before them, it echoed, making the tears sting worse in the boy's eyes. Jack's hand opened up, fingers stiff and palm open. His staff fell with a thud to the snow below. He let a cry of agony rip from his throat as soon as his numbed hand could feel the pain of the broken bone.

Jack held back his tears. Pitch must be stopped at all causes, whether Jack be the one to do it or not. .He still had his right hand free, along with a minimal amount of stored energy. While Pitch was chuckling t the boys screams, disgustingly relishing in it, Jack pulled his uninjured arm back into a fist, and drove it right into the elder's jaw. No cry of pain escaped his lips, only a low guttural growl from deep in his throat. Pitch's hand dropped from Jack's face, and went down to his side. The tendrils unraveled themselves from Jack's feet, and he collapsed to the ground on his bottom, cradling his cracked wrist in his right arm. Pitch looked unshaken.

"You have chose you're side of this war boy. Now it's time to end the persuasion and proceed to the fighting!" Pitch practically screamed, raising his arms and calling forth a thin, but rather sharp pointed tendril of darkness. Jack was still in shock, he barely noticed the tendril coming down at high speed. However, when the tendril proceeded to dig deep into his side and leave a deep wound, deep enough to blur his vision and cause him inability to think straight, Jack was shaken from his delirious state, and driven into one of confusion and anxiousness. He barely remembered Pitch's long grin as a terrible scream erupted from his lips.

This time, Jack actually proceeded to throw up. He lurched again, closing his eyes and grunting as his stomach wound opened wider. He looked down. His once beautifully embroidered blue snowflake hoodie was now torn down the side, and his pants were drenched in blood. He had never seen so much of his own blood at once… the snow only seemed to be getting redder. He looked up from the crimson snow, and up to the enemy that stood before him. Everything that he most feared had just happened in a matter of minutes.

And now, as he had always feared, was time for war to be waged.

So guys, I know I've been out for quite a while, just my personal live catching up with me. I've actually had a lot of stuff to do in my English honors class, and I think it has helped to improve my writing dramatically!

But I can't conclude that statement entirely true until I hear from you, my dear readers!

Please, feel free to review with suggestions, comments CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, and please keep in mind **** I honestly have no other knowledge or background info on anything having to do with Ride of the Guardians, except for the movie. I read a couple pages of the books, but I don't know the legitimate background info, so pardon any mistakes on account of that.

Otherwise, hope you enjoyed!

~Wolflover77

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